The Spectral Hound
by Lapin de la Flouve
Summary: What might have been Sir Henry Baskerville's thought the day the hound was loosed upon him. just a short vingette Please R


The Spectral Hound  
By  
Lapin de la Flouve  
  
I was rather confused over what Sherlock Holmes had just told me. Here he had been admonishing me not to venture out into the moor alone, even going as far as to send his companion Dr. John Watson to keep watch on me; and now he was telling me to send my trap home and return to the Hall on foot through that very stretch of land? But what was I to do other then agree to do what I was told? I must say though, that Watson seemed just as perturbed as I. After breakfast, Mr. Homes and Watson acquitted Baskerville Hall as previously arranged. I busied myself around my new home as was this was my first time alone in it. The dreariness of the autumn moor seemed to press around the house even harder now that my guest had left. Finally, the time arrived for me to make my way to Merripit House for a dinner invitation with the Stapleton's. I was greeted warmly by my host and told, much to my disappointment, that his sister was feeling indisposed and would not be joining us tonight. As always, I found his company engaging and very relaxing. We spent the first half of my visit talking of my plans for the restoration of the Hall and of his entomological research; a subject that he talked of with much confidence and animation. Our conversation waned slightly while we dined as we engrossed ourselves in the meal. The remainder of the evening we sat lounged comfortably around a fire smoking cigars, drinking wine and coffee, and conversing about the locale peasants; us both being outsiders, we found the menial lives of those around us of an immense interest.  
  
I couldn't help but become gradually more nervous as I watched the clock tick off the minutes. Stapleton excused himself at one point saying that he had just remembered a gravely important matter that he needed to discuss with one of his servants before they went to bed. When he had left, I leaned back in my chair, looking out the window. The fog was rolling in quickly and although I am not a superstitions man, I did not want to be caught out on the moor alone at night when the forces of evil are exalted. It was an eerie place at night and the fog would make the short distance back to the Hall seem like an eternity. When Stapleton returned I informed him that my stay would have to come to an end shortly so that I could beat the fog home. He glance out the window, noticing no doubt, that the fog was beginning to wind its way up to his door. He turned back towards me, "No no, my friend. Do not let the fog deceive you, it will be a while yet before it reaches the moor. Please stay, we have time enough for one more glass of wine." said he. I bowed to his superior knowledge of the moorland though my mind did not rest easy with the thought that I still had to venture out on it. A half-hour later I finally bade him good night. The fog was pressing close around the moor and I would have to move quickly to avoid being caught out in it. Taking the path that Sherlock Holmes had advised me to take, I hurried towards the Hall. I was barley into the moor when I heard the sound of an animal running behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I caught sight of the hound; its fur glowing, and blood red eyes shining through the mist. I screamed in terror, fleeing from the terrible monster behind me. It let out a howl of what I assumed to be triumph as it jumped into my back, knocking me down. I lashed out at the hound yelling at the top of my lungs. Suddenly shots rang through the air and the hound fell beside me dead. A man walked over to where I was lying. I was surprised to see Sherlock Holmes himself standing over me. Soon Dr. Watson and another man that I had never seen were standing next to him. Watson checked that I was unharmed. I was helped into a large rock where I was told to stay. Mr. Holmes said that his work was not finished, he still had to apprehend the villain behind this. The three men took off back towards Merripit House, leaving me sitting in the moor. My heart was still racing from the attack. I stared at the beast lying dead in front of me, it was a real animal not the supernatural hound that was thought to be a curse upon my family. Although I knew it was made of flesh and blood I would never forget the fear that chilled me to my very bones, at the sight of that gigantic hound, glowing spectral behind me.  
  
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There you have it, my first completed story. I promised you a Sherlock Holmes story but this is not it. This is just something I decided to write on a whim after reading The Hound of the Baskervilles. Anyway I hope you like it and I promise to start posting my real Holmes fic someday.  
LF *~* 


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